


fever all through the night

by estrella30



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, OT5, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:25:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is sick and the rest of the band takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fever all through the night

**Author's Note:**

> this is for venti_turtl and coolbreeze who were talking about OT5 cuddlepile sickfic the other night! lots of the ideas in this were taken right from those conversations and most of the credit for them goes to coolbreeze, so thank you, lady!!!
> 
> thanks to mrsyt31 for the beta and britpick! any remaining mistakes are completely my own. 
> 
> on a silly side note, I realized as I posted this that this is my 40th One Direction fic which, WOW. never would I have thought a year ago when I couldn't even tell Liam and Louis apart that I would one day have written 40 fics about them. this fandom and these guys and everyone I know who loves them are GREAT. I'm so happy that a big number fic is a OT5 cuddling fic because really, the OT5 love is what brought me into the fandom and what will keep me here forever and ever hopefully <3

*

Louis is finally relaxing, eyes slipping shut to the soft rumble of the tour bus bumping along the road, when the lounge door opens to a chorus of shouts and a frenzied sounding scuffle. 

“We just want to see him—“

“Are you sure he’s alright?” 

“He sounded like shit tonight, so we—“

“ _Niall_ , he didn’t _sound like shit_ , he’s _ill_.”

“I know that, Liam, Christ, I’m just saying—“

“ _Lads_.” 

The last voice is Paul and they all shut up at once, Niall with his swearing and Zayn and Harry’s pleading and Liam’s scolding. Louis can tell just from the tone of Paul’s voice the look he’s got on his face and he cringes in sympathy; he’s been on the receiving end of that look enough times to know how not fun it can be.

“I don’t know how many more times I have to say this to you, so I’m going to say it slowly and then maybe someone will understand me, yeah? Louis. Is. Off. Limits. Got it?”

“But—“

“You can’t mean that—“

“We just want to see—“

“ _LADS,_ ” Paul shouts and they all go quiet at once. “Off limits means off limits. Which means _go away_ to your own bunks for the night and I’ll deal with you lot when we get to the hotel in a few hours.”

Louis pushes up on his elbows and watches the door wondering if one of them is going to manage to push past Paul and shove their way inside anyway, but just then a deep cough rattles through his chest, shaking his bones so hard he’s got tears in his eyes by the time he’s finished. 

The hall is quiet for a moment, and then Louis hears Liam’s soft voice, “But you’re sure he’s going to be all right? He sounds so ill.”

“I’m positive,” Paul assures him. Louis hears the rest of the lads muttering and then Paul continues. “He just needs a bit of rest and to get some sleep at the hotel and he’ll be fine. The last thing anyone needs, though, is the rest of you making him worse or catching whatever he’s got and falling ill yourselves, understand?”

Louis hears them all talking quietly and falls back into his pillows, arms flung wide at the sides. He’s just so tired. Tired and achy and his throat is sore and his chest is killing him. He needs some ribena and a cup of tea and a huge bed and someone to rub his back. He’d say he needs his mum but that’s silly. He just – he really needs some rest. 

“We understand, don’t we, lads,” Harry says quietly. There’s some more whispering and then Zayn’s voice is coming closer to the door along with the soft rapping of someone’s knuckles.

“Feel better, Lou. We love you,” Zayn whispers.

“Get some rest,” Harry adds. 

“Sleep a lot, twatface,” Niall says, and then there’s a smack and a yelp and Liam’s voice strong and clear. 

“Right, anyway, take your meds and drink lots of fluids,” Liam says, and then there’s some more snickers and more thumping and Liam muttering, “ _Honestly_ , Harry, just because I said the word _fluids_ \--“

Louis giggles despite himself but that just rips another deep and rattling cough from his chest. He groans long and loud and rolls over onto his belly and buries his face into the pillows. 

*

When Louis wakes up it’s to Paul shaking his shoulder, his big face looming over Louis’ head. Louis blinks and tries to focus in the darkness. He’s no medic but even he can tell he’s got a fever, his joints and bones aching, his skin feeling too thin and tight over his body. 

“You all right?” Paul asks. 

Louis shakes his head. “Feel like utter shite.”

“That’s what I thought,” Paul says quietly. “I’ve got someone coming to see you tomorrow to give you something but it’s the middle of the night now and not much we can do. I’ll get you up to your room and get you settled and then sleep until I ring you tomorrow, yeah?”

Louis licks his lips. His mouth is dry and feels like there’s been cotton stuffed inside his cheeks and his ears and throat are aching. He’s literally dying for a cuppa, but the thought of having to ask Paul to make it for him when they get to his room is almost as terrible as the idea of trying to figure out where everything is in a brand new hotel room and making it for himself. Louis sighs and sits up, presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and groans. 

“Yeah. Yeah, all right,” Louis rasps out. 

Paul helps Louis gather his things and tightens the duvet around his shoulders as Louis slumps off the bus and into the chilly night air. He shivers and his teeth chatter and Paul pulls him close and tucks him under one of his huge arms. 

It’s quiet around them – so quiet Louis manages to lift his head and blink around curiously, wondering why he’s the only one going into the hotel. 

“We’re keeping you separated,” Paul says flatly, guessing Louis’ question before he asks it. “They’re not to ring you or bother you or come see you. We’re not telling them your room number and you’re not to give it to them either, understand?”

Louis nods a little and turns back around to face the bus. Even through the dark night sky he can see the faces of his bandmates pressed against four individual windows from the inside of the tourbus. They’re each staring at Louis mopily, and when Louis lifts his hand in a wave they all wave back sadly except for Harry who just presses his face and nose and the palms of both hands to the glass. 

“Come on,” Paul says gruffly, tugging Louis along and into the side door of the hotel. “I think you lot can manage one night apart from each other to make sure you don’t _die_ before this leg of the tour is over, yeah?”

“I’m sure,” Louis croaks out, then remembers Harry’s sad face and the depressed little waves of the others and hopes that Paul is right. 

*

Louis is lying in bed with the covers pulled up to just under his nose when he hears a soft rapping at the door. He thinks he’s imagining it at first it’s so quiet, but when he manages to sit up a little he hears it again a bit louder this time, along with Zayn’s frantic whispering. 

“Lou, shit, open up if you hear me, yeah?”

Louis groans and flops back into the pillows. His life is so terrible. “I’m not getting up. Go find Paul and get a key or something.”

“As if,” Zayn snorts. “Paul would bollock me from here ‘till Sunday if he knew I was here.”

Louis might be dying; the way he feels that’s a very real possibility, and the idea of getting up out of the bed and answering the door sounds worse than pretty much anything. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Zayn,” Louis calls out and pulls the covers over his head. 

Zayn sighs. “You’re leaving me no choice, Lou,” Zayn says quietly. He waits a beat then says, “Open the door and I’ll make you a tea.”

And bloody hell, _that_ Louis will get up for. 

He groans loud and over dramatic as he sits up and lets all the aches in his body settle deep into his bones. It takes a minute for him to muster up the energy to shuffle from the bed, sleep pants dragging long on the hotel room rug, his feet sliding around in the thick socks he nicked from Harry’s bag the last time they were on the bus together. He’s got on his thickest white jumper and he pulls the sleeves down over his hands when he reaches the door, coughing into the cuffs, the tips of his fingers sticking out just far enough to grab the doorknob. 

“Hey,” he croaks when he pulls open the door and finds Zayn grinning at him from the other side. “What are you doing here?”

“Zap,” Zayn says and holds up a handful of comics. “Zayn’s here to make you a cuppa.”

Louis manages to smile even though every muscle in his face actually hurts from his fever. 

“Zap, Zayn gives me his comics and lets me go back to bed while he fixes my tea.”

Zayn curls his arm around Louis shoulder and pulls him close, tucking him in against Zayn’s chest and kissing the top of his head. He walks them both into the room slowly, closing and locking the door behind them and leading Louis back to the bed where he flops down, arms and legs thrown wide on top of the covers. 

“Zap, I’m actually doing what you say for once in your life,” Zayn says, and wanders off to make Louis some tea.

*

Louis is sleepy and comfortable, all curled up under the covers, his insides still warm from the tea Zayn made him and Zayn’s fingers running through his hair. Zayn’s got the telly tuned to a replay of the football game from earlier in the night and he’s flipping through his comics, only nudging Louis every once in awhile to show him something he finds that he thinks Louis will like. 

Louis doesn’t mind; he’s more comfortable now lying in the bed with Zayn then he’s been in ages, the warmth of Zayn’s chest and the familiar scent of his hair gel and cologne tickling Louis’ nose. 

Naturally, that’s when there’s another knock at the door. 

Zayn freezes, his hands going still on the comic and his breath coming up short. “If that’s Paul I’m dead.”

Louis grunts and closes his eyes. “Ignore it then, that’s what I’m going to do.”

They both lie there silently until the knock sounds again, this time a little louder and longer. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Zayn whispers. “He’s _actually_ going to kill me. He made a point to take each one of us and pull us aside and make sure to tell us that we were under no circumstances to come to your room tonight and bother you.”

“I see how well that worked,” Louis mumbles. 

Zayn hits him gently on the back of the head. “Oi, I came here to make you _tea_ , I’m _helping you feel better_ , mate, don’t you think that’s enough?” Zayn’s interrupted by the knocking again but this time there’s a frantic sounding whisper accompanying it and Zayn and Louis both stop short and listen. 

“Liam?” Louis croaks, because honestly, maybe he’s hearing things. 

“Yes, bloody hell, Lou, can you open the door before I—“

Zayn leaps from the bed, tossing the covers up so quickly they fly into the air and then settle down over Louis’ entire face and head. He splutters a bit in the bed, flailing around to get himself out from under the sheets and duvet and by the time he does Zayn’s rushed Liam into the room and they’re stood at the foot of the bed glaring at each other. 

“What are you doing here?” Zayn hisses. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Liam snaps back. 

“ _I_ came to make Louis some tea and bring him comics,” Zayn says. 

Liam pulls his arm out from behind his back and waves a DVD case around in the air. “Well _I_ brought The Avengers for us to watch so Louis can relax. I was only trying to help.”

“Me too,” Zayn says and narrows his eyes. 

“Lads,” Louis waves his hands around weakly in the air and they both whip their heads around to look at him. “I know I’m wonderful, really, but all this fighting over me has to stop.”

Liam shakes his head and Zayn rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Lou,” Liam says. 

Louis coughs a bit into his hand but he’s feeling slightly better; the tea Zayn made him really did help. He shoves the covers back and waves them both over, shooing Liam away to grab Louis’ laptop first so they can play the movie. “I mean, you’re not supposed to be here but since you made all the effort you might as well stay,” Louis says. 

Liam smiles at him gently, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and he takes the side opposite the one Zayn’s on, pulling Louis’ head down against his chest and letting Louis’ feet tangle with Zayn’s under the covers. Louis can smell Liam’s detergent and can feel the curve of his smile when he kisses Louis on the forehead. 

“You’ve still got a fever,” Liam says quietly, letting his lips linger like Louis’ mum used to do when he was small. “You need rest.”

“And not to be bothered,” Zayn says ominously. “Paul’s going to kill us.”

“Ssh,” Liam hushes him and Zayn huffs. “We’re fine. Just quietly watching a movie and relaxing; surely Paul can’t fault us for that, yeah? I mean, it’s not as if we’re causing any sort of trouble.”

“Right,” Zayn says, sounding relieved. “That’s totally right.”

Liam presses play on the movie and Louis relaxes, watching the opening credits flick across the screen, Liam and Zayn breathing quietly on either side of him.

*

The quiet lasts for roughly ten minutes, before there’s a loud crash from outside Louis’ hotel room door. The three of them bolt upright in the bed when they hear it, eyes wide and frantic. 

“Do you think that’s Paul?” Zayn asks. 

“Not unless he’s trying to scare me half to death,” Louis mutters. His heart is beating triple time, his hands shaking a little from being so startled. He’d actually been close to falling asleep he thinks, and now he’s not again. Louis whimpers softly and Liam pulls him back against his chest soothingly. He cards his fingers through Louis’ hair, pulling Louis in closer to his side. 

“Maybe it was just one of the hotel staff,” Liam says mildly. “It could have been housekeeping walking down the hall and dropping something—“

There’s another loud crash then, and then the distinct sound of Niall shoving someone around and cursing out in the hall. 

Zayn jumps from the bed and bounds across the room. “Niall?” he says as he yanks open the door. 

“And Harry,” Harry adds, poking his head into the room and grinning. “I brought soup!”

“Soup?” Louis says quietly. Christ, but he needs to _sleep_. “Sounds great, cheers.”

“Well, three soups, actually,” Harry says slowly. Zayn’s given up trying to keep them both out and instead is shooing them inside and engaging every lock and bolt on the door. 

“I know you’re supposed to eat chicken noodle when you’re sick,” Harry continues, “but I remembered that Lou doesn’t like chicken noodle and that he likes tomato better. But I didn’t think tomato was the best thing for a cold and they had some kind of lentil vegetable broth thing at the shops so I got that too.”

“You brought him _three soups_?” Liam asks. “He’ll float away if he eats all that.”

Harry hefts a huge bag in the air and smiles slowly. “And biscuits. My mum used to always give me a biscuit when I was feeling poorly, I thought it might help.”

Louis smiles a bit, being slowly lulled to sleep again by Liam’s fingers and how Zayn is crawling into the bed, pulling Louis’ legs into his lap and rubbing his hand slowly over Louis’ back. “And what did you bring, Nialler?”

“Whiskey,” Niall says firmly, already wandering into the kitchenette and grabbing mugs from the cabinet. “I’m making you a hot toddy that’ll knock your shitting socks off.”

“He doesn’t need to get pissed, Niall, Christ,” Harry huffs. 

“Well he doesn’t need some crappy _soup_ , Haz,” Niall snaps back. “He’s supposed to stay in bed anyway. How’s he supposed to eat soup in bed? Have you ever tried? It makes a bloody fucking mess is what it does.”

“What he needs,” Louis says, as loudly as he can muster, “is to sleep. So like, can you two stop arguing and get over here like Zayn and Liam are and maybe we can skip ahead to that part?”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course,” Harry says, beaming happily. He toes off his trainers as Niall puts the whiskey on the counter and bounds across the room. 

“Definitely,” Niall says and lies tucked against Liam’s other side his arm reaching over Liam’s waist to pat Louis’ arm. “You feeling any better, Lou?”

“Eh,” Louis shrugs. “Little bit, I guess.”

Louis feels the bed dip again and looks over to find Harry curling in half on top of Zayn, one arm tucked under Zayn’s back and the other curled protectively around Louis’ knee. “Do you need us to get you anything else?” Harry asks.

“I mean, Paul is going to kill us all anyway,” Zayn adds. “So you might as well give us any final requests.”

“Just – just sleep,” Louis says, eyes slipping shut as he finally starts to drift off. “I just really want to sleep.”

“Of course,” Liam says softly. “We love you, Lou,” he adds and Louis hears the rest of them agree quietly, their hands patting him gently and soft kisses pressing into his hair and cheek and the back of his hand and his side. 

Louis says, “You too,” and smiles a bit, settling back into the bed as he feels them all move in closer, Zayn and Liam around him, Harry and Niall curling in from the sides to hold them all together. 

 

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> estrella30 on tumblr


End file.
